Shelbys, Impalas, and Mustangs, Oh My!
by Andromeda Silver
Summary: Sam and Dean run into a rather odd team of hunters while investigating the brutal murders of several hikers out in Colorado.
1. Chapter 1

Author's notes: Don't own a thing, though I could think of some things I'd like to do with Sam and Dean… ;-) This story started from an idea my sister Ice Queen1 had, I worked on, she rejected, and I started over from scratch with many suggestions from her. Much of the dialogue I owe to her—I swear she channels characters like Dean. Reviews are always welcome. Enjoy!

* * *

Whisper quiet, Sam and Dean Winchester stalked along the wooded path through the Mantila Sal National Forest outside of Paradox, Colorado. The brothers scanned the darkness blanketing the forest, trying to discern any movement among the trees. The fact that no moonlight shone through the branches made their job of locating and killing the wendigo responsible for five hikers' deaths that much harder. Dean was focusing so hard on a slightly rustling bush that when Sam tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention, Dean whipped around and aimed his flare gun at Sam. 

"Whoa, calm down!" hissed Sam, throwing his hand up in surrender.

Dean smacked his brother in the back of the head. "Stop doing that! Just because I survived that one massive heart attack doesn't mean I'll survive another."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I heard something from over there." He pointed to the underbrush on the other side of the path.

"Sammy, I don't--" Dean broke off as crashing grew louder and louder from the direction Sam indicated. It sounded like something large was running through the woods straight for the brothers.

Sam and Dean looked at each other and aimed their weapons in the direction of the sound. Whatever it was, it wasn't going to get past them.

"That is the LAST time I let you use a weapon!" yelled a female voice.

"How many times have I heard that one before?" a second feminine voice retorted.

Dean and Sam exchanged looks. Since when did wendigos mimic bickering women?

The first voice continued. "You dumb ass! How could you mistake a freaking _bear_ for a rakshasa?"

"Hey, it's dark and all I could tell was that it was big and growled, which doesn't help when hunting a shape-shifting demon."

"Just freaking great! Now we've got a wounded AND pissed bear on our ass! You just shot it in the leg too! Why couldn't you at least shoot it in the _face_?"

"Hey, you're the one with the shotgun! Why didn't you shoot it?"

"Because it's loaded with rock salt and would be about as effective as a BB gun! How did you manage to get into college!"

"Because none of the questions on the SAT were relevant to bear hunting techniques!"

"TECHNIQUE! SHOOT IT IN THE GODDAMN FACE, NOT THE LEG! That's all there is to it!"

Suddenly two figures burst out onto the trail right where Sam and Dean were aiming. The first one was taller, had long hair in a ponytail, and looked to be carrying a sawed off shotgun. The second was noticeably shorter and was toting a crossbow with a quiver slung across her back. The two women paused long enough to notice the brothers and say, "Hi, we suggest you run for your life before the bear catches up," before pointing behind the brothers and running past them full-tilt.

An angry roar broke the silence of the wood.

"I'm not one for taking advice from strangers," said Dean, "but I'm going to follow their lead. Flare gun isn't much use on Smokey."

"Yeah, let's go," Sam agreed and took off back down the trail.

As the brothers raced on, Dean panted, "I told you it couldn't be a wendigo."

"But the pattern fit! I don't get it. Then what killed those hikers?" asked Sam.

"How about the BEAR, Captain Oblivious? How is it you're the smart brother?"

The brothers burst out into the parking area at the base of the trail, only to be blinded with flashlights.

"Ah shit…" muttered Dean. He hoped it wasn't the local police.

"We know why we're in the woods in the dead of night in a blocked off area due to man eating bear sightings with a sawed off shotgun and a crossbow. What's the deal with the flare gun and the Girl Scout water?"

"Girl scout water?" Sam repeated.

"White gas," Dean replied.

Sam shot a look at his brother who shrugged. "I had my hobbies."

"Arson?"

"Hey! Do I get an answer?" the first voice asked, lowering her flashlight as she pointed it towards the ground.

"Question!" the other girl asked. "Isn't there an enraged bear barreling down the mountainside after us?"

"And whose fault is that?" Dean asked.

"Hers," the first replied, jerking her thumb at the other, shorter one.

"I don't think the bear will choose sides when it gets here, do you?" Sam said.

"You're right," the taller girl said. "It'll eat you first because you're closest to the woods. But all the same, I'd rather not chance it scratching up my car when it's through mauling you."

"I'm not waiting around to be an epitaph," Dean said. "You heading for the hotel or the bar?"

"Does it matter? There's only one of each. And they share the same lot," the first one answered as she headed for their Mustang and tossed the gun across the seat. "Claire! Get in the car and stop ogling!"

"Bitch!"

"Whore!"

"This sound familiar to you?" Sam asked, grinning as he slid into the passenger side of the Impala.

"Since when did I call you a whore?" Dean replied as he gunned for the exit only to be cut off by the Mustang shooting out of nowhere and across the median to beat him to it. "Hmm. Massachusetts plates…makes sense."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Dean pulled up outside Long Shots Bar and cut the engine. The women were already there, leaning on the trunk of their navy blue Mustang. The Winchesters climbed out of the Impala and walked over towards them. In the halo of the neon sign, they could see that the taller of the two women had a long copper ponytail and bottle green eyes while the shorter one's blonder hair grazed her shoulders and blue eyes watched the brothers approach. 

"Nice Mustang," said Dean. "You keep it in good condition."

"Thanks, it's a Shelby GT500," the taller one replied. She nodded towards his car. "Nice antelope."

Sam actually burst out laughing at the look on Dean's face.

"Nah, just screwing with you. It's a '67 Impala right?"

The older Winchester smiled. "A woman who appreciates good cars—I like that. I'm Dean, this is my brother Sam."

"Name's Rain. This is mah sistah Claire."

"Rain, you're from New Hampshire. Stop talking like Dixie Land trailer trash."

"Oh, but I wanna be white trash!"

Claire cleared her throat. "Are we going to hang out in the parking lot like a bunch of dumb teenagers, or are we actually going to go into the bar?"

"Ladies first," retorted Dean, his smile souring.

"Last one in buys!" Rain shouted before shoving her sister away from the door and bolting ahead.

"Hey! You don't even drink!" Claire retorted before chasing after her.

"You know, I was thinking that they had to be at least sixteen to drive, but now I'm thinking maybe they're really tall ten-year-olds," Sam mused.

"Well, Claire's about the size of a fifth grader, so it's possible."

"Hey!" Claire snapped, poking her head out the door. "You automatically buy for being a dumb ass!"

"I would've called you a smartass myself," Sam said as Claire disappeared again.

As they pushed open the door Dean glanced around the bar, taking in the handful of middle-aged men scattered at the counter, and muttered, "This place sure is hopping."

"It's a Wednesday night in a small town," said Claire. "No one's out except for the really lost truckers."

The four settled down at a table in the darkest corner. "So, what were you two looking for out in the woods?" asked Dean.

"A man eating bear. Successful night, wouldn't you agree?"

"A rakshasa," Claire replied, rolling her eyes at her sister. "When we investigated the deaths, we thought that the pattern fit the Hindu shape-shifting demon. The only things I know that kill them are arrows blessed by Brahma, thanks to _Kolchak: the Night Stalker_."

"Yeah, worst idea you've ever had," Rain muttered. "Not to mention you're a total spaz. Shooting a grizzly bear in the leg with an arrow just pisses it off and gets it to chase you."

"I didn't hear you give any bright suggestions," retorted Claire, "and I told you blessed hand grenades are way too messy for use in a state park crawling with rangers looking for a crazed bear."

"Which you just created…"

Sam interrupted, "So tell us, why do you say the creature that's been killing hikers is a rakshasa?"

"It uses telepathic abilities to appear as anyone or anything that a victim would trust, like a parent or best friend," said Claire. "In their natural state they're big—like a bear. Rakshasas like to eat human flesh, hence the torn up bodies. Its MO is a bit like a wendigo's, but those aren't found anywhere near here. There wasn't a whole lot of evidence left at the scenes to determine whether or not we were right in our assumption. The one spot that could've been its lair turned out to be the bear's home instead, so that theory's heading out the window."

"I don't remember ever hearing of one of those," Dean said.

"That's because they're Hindu. Last time I checked, we weren't in India," Rain grumbled.

Claire cocked an eyebrow. "And how long have you been in the business of hunting supernatural creatures?"

"Since I was five," retorted Dean.

"Ok, that doesn't make me feel good. If you've been at this job for that long and you don't have a clue, we're in real trouble."

Sam sighed. "Looks like we're back at square one, just with a couple more options discarded."

"How about we combine forces?" suggested Dean. "So we're not covering the same ground twice, and we don't accidentally shoot at one another when we do figure out what the bastard is."

"Yes…I wouldn't trust Claire's aim or eyesight either," said Rain.

Claire glared. "Just remember I can get you anytime I like, sister dear."

"Yeah, yeah, if I had a dollar for every time you said that, I would've funded my plot to take over the world by now."

"Great!" Dean said, rubbing his hands together. "Since we're here I'm getting myself a beer. Can I get anyone else something while I'm up?"

"I'll come with you," answered Claire. "I feel like doing shots, but I'm not sure of what yet."

Dean smiled as he rose from his seat. "Maybe you're not as uptight as I originally thought."

"Yes she is!" Rain called after them.

"My, your sister seems friendly," Sam said as the older siblings waited for their drinks at the bar.

"Yes, doesn't she? Feel free to take her off my hands for the night. I know her and booze, and I might just try the effectiveness of rock salt on drunks…" Rain trailed off, as though seriously considering what kind of damage she could do to her sister.

"Fun drunk is she?"

"Oh loads. Like a barrelful of monkeys," Rain replied. "I hate monkeys."

"Why were you guys hunting out on a night like this?" Sam asked, steering the conversation away from methods used to torture siblings. He didn't need Dean to overhear and get any ideas. Or worse…contribute some of his own.

"Honestly? Boredom. We weren't going to go out until there was something of a moon to see by, but dear sweet Jesus, there is NOTHING to do around here! We just get a porn channel and public broadcasting at the motel, and you know what? Porno just isn't gratifying after seeing the same thing for six hours. Especially when the body doubles need to enroll in Pilates or something."

"_Playmate of the Apes_?" Sam asked. That was the movie that had been stuck on their one channel at their motel.

"Nope, _Arma-Get-it-On_." Rain shuddered. "How anyone can find that garbage entertaining, I don't know."

"Still better than _Gilmore Girls_," said Claire, returning with a glass of what appeared to be soda and a bottle of beer. She passed the glass over to her sister and said, "I managed to get you a Coke, sans alcohol, as an apology of sorts."

"I might think about forgiving you if this Coke was a caramel latte," Rain said, taking the soda anyway.

"You mean straight caramel syrup with a teaspoon of coffee. Even if I did get you one of those, you'd never let me live down the bear incident tonight."

"Oh, I'm telling any kids you have that story any time they do something stupid just to prove that no matter what they did it pales in comparison to shooting a bear with an arrow. Hell, it's getting mentioned at your funeral."

"You forget I've got just as much dirt on you."

"Hey, at least I've got entertaining stories that don't involve mortal peril due to complete stupidity."

Claire stuck her tongue out at her sister and set the beer in front of Sam. "Your brother told me to tell you to join in the fun and drink up." She headed back towards the bar when Dean waved at her.

"So," Sam began, eyeing the beer, "how long have you and your sister been hunting?"

"Let's see…today's Wednesday, right?" asked Rain, glancing at her watch.

"Yeah, the twenty-fourth. Why?"

"Two weeks…_now_."

"Two _weeks_! You've been hunting supernatural beings for just two _weeks_?"

"Wow, this place really is empty—I hear an echo."

"How—why—did you two just wake up one morning and say, 'Hey, let's go hit the road and hunt supernatural creatures for a living'?"

"Pretty much."

"Didn't you have a normal life? Or at least what most people would consider normal…"

"Sure, I had the whole mom, dad, annoying sister, white picket fence deal, but it gets boring. Besides, what more could a girl ask for in life? Hot car loaded with weapons given by loving family members who think she's off her rocker, her own theme song, and a lifestyle that allows her to kill things while PMS-ing with no legal repercussions. Why the fuck would I want to be normal?"

"You really are certifiable."

"Thank you."

_How did I end up with the insane one?_ Sam thought as he took a sip of beer.

"I don't know about you, but I've about had it with sibling bonding time," Claire grumbled as she knocked back a shot of rum. "Rain has a tendency of believing that she's the older, wiser sister when she not only is younger but has done some incredibly stupid things when she knew better. Pisses me off all the time. Sam do that to you?"

"Nah, just questions my authority all the time." Dean took a shot and reached for his beer.

Claire smiled. "A chaser? Pansy."

"Did you sister lie about you being boring?"

"No, though don't trust anything that comes out of her mouth. If she isn't lying flat out, she's embellished the story to the point where it's hard to separate fact from fiction. What I hate is that with her total lack of morals she feels it necessary to tell me that I'm a lush if I drink one beer in a week. I get worse lectures from Rain than my parents about drinking." She leaned across the bar to get the bartender's attention, allowing her hair to fall to one side and revealing a symbol on the back of her neck.

"Most boring girls don't sport tats. Eye of Ra, isn't it?"

Claire sat up and brushed her hair back over her neck. "Trust me, I'm your average, dull science geek, tattoo notwithstanding. I got that done recently as protection. Helps to have at least one eye in the back of your head in this profession." She nodded at the bartender after he refilled her glass. "I'm not the only one who's superstitious." She gestured at Dean's necklace. "That's an Egyptian protective amulet, isn't it?"

"A geek, huh? Maybe you should be talking to Sam, and I should be talking to Rain."

Claire shot him a sidelong glance as she drained her glass a second time. "Be my guest. As fun as it's been, I'm going to call it a night after one last drink. I don't want to have to rely on someone to take me back to the hotel."

"Can't _wait_ to work with you tomorrow," Dean muttered. "You're just such a ray of sunshine."

"Screw the last drink. I don't need to hear this right now after that's all I heard today from my sister. You two will get along splendidly. I'll see you in the morning." Claire left a few bills on the bar and stalked out the door.

"Night," Dean said under his breath as he rejoined Sam and Rain at the table.

* * *

Around seven the following morning Sam sat at a rickety table in the hotel lobby with a cup of coffee, staring at the green muffins that the manager was trying to pass off as a continental breakfast. Just as he was about to risk it all and give into his hunger Claire strolled in. She caught sight of him, smiled, waved, and pulled up a chair next to him. 

"You're up early," she said.

Sam shrugged. "Insomnia. You're certainly in a better mood than last night."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I get testy with little sleep and hanging around Rain 24/7 for too long." Claire glanced over at the plate of muffins. "I don't know about you, but I'm thinking that those muffins might try to bite me if I touch them. Want to try that diner down the road?"

"I was thinking more of a take-out kind of place. Dean's not up yet, and he'd probably like something when he finally does get up."

"So? Rain will sleep 'til noon if I don't poke her with a stick. We can get an order to go at the diner, I'm sure. I'm just sick and tired of Egg McMuffins."

"Fair enough. Do we want to risk the wrath of a car-obsessed sibling or walk? It's not far, and it's a nice day."

The hotel manager appeared behind the check in desk, a worried look on her face. "I wouldn't go out walking if I were you. The forest rangers are out looking for a wild animal that mauled someone just outside the national park early this morning."

Claire cringed. "Bear?"

"No, definitely not a bear," answered the manager. Claire sighed in relief. "The rangers aren't saying much, except that the wounds on the victim aren't consistent with a bear attack. The guy's skull was crushed like a watermelon. They're telling people not to go out into the woods until they catch the animal."

"Do you know where the body was found?" asked Sam. "Just so we know where to avoid."

"Just outside the national forest. I think they said it was at the west end, where the state route runs. There's probably all sorts of cop cars marking the scene by now."

Sam nudged Claire. "Time to wake up Dean and Rain."

"I don't know," Claire said as the two headed out of the lobby, "I'd prefer getting chased by that bear than waking up my sister before nine."

"Yeah…she kinda scared me last night. Is she insane?"

"Probably, like most of my family. Only one member's ever been caught and put in a mental hospital though."

"That makes me feel oh so much better."

* * *

Half an hour later, after a quick breakfast of smashed granola bars Claire found under the Mustang's front seat, all four hunters stood out in the parking lot checking their arsenals and deciding what weapons would be best to smuggle into the park. Sam checked over the map of the area to try to find the best way of avoiding the rangers around the scene. While counting the boxes of cartridges Dean glanced over at the contents of the sisters' trunk, seeing at least two gallons worth of holy water and a fifty-pound bag of salt packed around an assortment of weapons. "Think you got enough holy water and rock salt?" 

"We like to buy in bulk," replied Claire. "It keeps us from having to restock at every single job."

"Everything in this trunk, including the car itself was blessed," Rain added, "just in case. And that rock salt is doubly useful during snow season in New Hampshire when you get stuck in three feet of snow."

"You say you're from New Hampshire, yet you have Massachusetts plates on the car," Dean said.

"What, you think we're stupid enough to keep the car registered in our home state?" retorted Claire. "Makes it harder to trace us."

"We found that plate on the side of the road," added Rain.

"On another car," Claire muttered in Sam's ear. "I had nothing to do with it. My sister's a klepto. Don't show her anything shiny."

Dean interrupted, "So, how's the evasion plan coming?"

"There's a tiny parking area and almost forgotten trailhead about a mile down the road from where the body was found," answered Sam. "According to the news report, the rangers have already searched that area, so we should be able to get in undetected."

"Ok, now for transportation."

"You drive," said Rain. "I don't want to use my gas."

"Cheapskate."

"I call shotgun!"

"That's not going to work," said Sam. "I'm not sitting in back with my knees touching my nose."

"So pair up with the midget," Dean retorted, pointing to Claire.

"Hey!" the sisters exclaimed in unison.

"What? It makes sense to stick the shortest person either in front of or behind the tallest. Why are you even whining, Rain?"

"I called shotgun! It's rightfully mine!"

Claire retorted, "Fine, we can hack off your feet at the ankles so you'll fit with Sam sitting behind you."

Rain stuck her tongue out at her sister. "So long as _she_ doesn't get front, I'm fine."

As the sisters clambered into the back of the Impala glaring at one another, Dean muttered across the roof to Sam, "Let's get this preschool field trip on the road."

* * *

After finally reaching the trailhead, Dean parked the car and the foursome grabbed various shotguns, pistols, and knives before heading out onto the disused trail. Branches hung low over the path nearly obscuring the entrance, but after the first bend it widened to the point that they could walk along in pairs. 

"You know," piped up Claire, "we could've camped at the National Forest instead of staying at that cheap ass motel."

"People are dying in here," Sam said. "Why would you want to camp?"

"Easy commuting distance for one."

Rain added, "And we'd probably get a refund and a free stay at the motel when the rangers evacuated the campers."

"Why would you even camp in the first place?" asked Dean.

"How can you not like camping?"

"Why would I want to voluntarily stay out in the woods where there are wild animals, supernatural monsters, _bugs_, and no running water where my only shelter is a frigging nylon bag propped up on sticks and I get to sleep on the rocky ground?"

"Man, you don't know how to camp," said Claire.

"What you're talking about are Boy Scout Camp death marches that are supposed to teach you how to 'rough it' when in reality no one in their right mind, unless they signed up for the military, would camp like that."

"That sounds about right," muttered Sam.

"You need to try _our_ kind of camping."

"Alright, Miss Über Girl Scout, what is your kind of camping?" asked Dean.

"For one, you go to a campground that actually has stuff like a pool and shower house or at least is near something like the ocean. Two, you bring lots of junk food, S'mores supplies, and any booze you want. Three, get a good tent and camping cots."

"So the camping trip in the end is several days lounging around the pool during the day and building a fire at night while drinking and eating sugary crap," added Claire.

"That actually doesn't sound that bad," Dean agreed.

"Women know how to camp. Men know how to make everyone miserable in the wilderness."

Sam arched his eyebrows. "Eh. Sounds like it to me."

The conversation died as everyone concentrated on the task at hand. The group hiked along at a good clip without talking for nearly fifteen minutes before Claire interrupted the silence.

"I'm bored."

Dean glanced over his shoulder at the blonde. "We're sneaking around in a national forest looking for some monster while also dodging the rangers and a bear you pissed off last night, and you're bored?"

"No, more like I couldn't take the silence anymore. There's a difference between a comfortable silence and an awkward one, and I felt like it was getting towards the awkward end."

"Fine. You're the one with the issues, you come up with a conversation topic."

"I'm terrible at that. Rain, how about you?"

The redhead paused in the middle of the trail. "You banned me from suggesting conversation topics after the last one."

"Yeah, well, I'm desperate. _Really_ desperate."

"As long as you admit it." Rain continued walking and asked, "Who do you think would win in a fight between a unicorn and a pirate?"

Sam burst out laughing before Rain punched him in the arm.

"Seriously! Captain Jack or Rainbow Brite? Who wins?"

"Rainbow Brite isn't a unicorn," Dean pointed out.

"Wait," Sam asked, "how do _you _know that?"

"I used to baby-sit you. If I didn't let you watch that damn show you'd throw a hissy fit."

"Ok, I see this was a bad idea," Claire interrupted.

Rain rolled her eyes. "Told you."

"At least I thought of a better topic in the meantime."

"But no one answered the question at hand!"

"If the pirate has a gun, he wins so long as his aim is good. If not, then the unicorn gores him before he can pull out his sword. End of discussion. Now, if you could be any superhero, who would you be?"

Dean pursed his lips. "Batman. No debate. He kicks serious ass, has the Batmobile, and all the toys that come with the Batcave. Plus, his alter-ego is a millionaire playboy."

"Don't forget the cape!" added Rain. "Chicks love the cape."

"And he's a badass. I could probably deal without wearing my underwear on the outside of my clothes though. What about you? What superhero or heroine would you be?"

"Rain would be the Human Torch from _Fantastic Four_," answered Claire, smiling at her sister. "She's a smart ass and likes fire."

"Nothing wrong with that," Rain muttered. "You'd be Spider-Man, geek girl."

Dean grinned. "I bet Sammy would be too."

Sam rolled his eyes and asked, "When's the crack about me already having a spider sense coming?"

"Spider-Man! Spider-Man!" sang Claire. "Does whatever a spider—OW!" She glared at Rain and massaged her arm where her younger sister punched her.

"Shut up for one second!" Rain growled. "I think I heard something up ahead."

Everyone instinctively tightened their grasp on their weapon of choice. The path curved around a rock outcropping, and the quartet silently crept along using the rocks as a shield. Around the corner the trail opened out into a picturesque clearing filled with wildflowers. Claire turned to her sister and opened her mouth to tell Rain that she was imagining things when a beautiful, huge, black horse with ember-like eyes tossing its head and pawing the earth with its hooves congealed out of the shadows.

Dean lowered his gun slightly. "Why the hell is there a horse out in the middle of the woods?"

"I don't know, but I wanna catch it!" Rain said.

"Rain, it's a strange horse," Claire said. "You don't know what kind of temperament it has, not to mention whether or not it belongs to someone."

The horse turned its burning gaze on the hunters, whinnied, and reared up on its hind legs. A ball of fire spewed from its nostrils, surprising the hunters.

"SWEET! I WANT IT!" yelled Rain. She approached the horse cautiously calling, "Heeeeeeeeeere horsey, horsey, horsey... come to mama..."

Claire's eyes went wide as saucers. "Oh no. She finally got her wish."

Sam asked, "What wish?"

"You know how most little girls wish for a pony?"

"Yeah?"

"Well… that's Rain's version."

"A fire breathing, murderous, possessed horse?"

"Oddly enough… she used those exact words." Claire called after her sister, who was now about ten feet from the strange horse, "RAIN! You can't keep it!"

Rain stopped to throw Claire a look. "Why not!"

"Because it kills people for fun?" suggested Dean.

Rain rolled her eyes. "Well, duh, why do you think I wanted it in the first place?"

"Aww, man," muttered Claire, "it's going to be impossible to get rid of this thing now that Rain's fallen for it. Actually, if she gets a hold of it, the body count is going to rise if anything."

"Just tell her no," said Dean. "Pull the older sibling card."

The blonde laughed so hard Dean thought she'd suffocate, or worse, spook the horse. "Are you _joking_! That hasn't worked since Rain was four! Though that might have to do with the fact that she was my size by then with severe rage issues…"

"Aren't you glad you've got me and not a sister?" Sam asked his brother as Claire picked her way down the path towards Rain.

"With all your emotional baggage, Claire seems more like a brother than you do."

"Thanks, Dean," said Claire. "I thought it was just me. Now might you be able to help me drag Rain away from the demon horse before the two of them become friends and torch the rest of this town and take over the world?"

Before Rain could touch the mysterious horse, it reared back and screamed, making the hair on everyone's necks stand on end. By the time the scream died away, the horse disappeared in a ball of fire and smoke.

"Well, that was interesting," said Claire, obviously relieved her sister hadn't got a hold of the horse. Rain looked as if she would burst into tears at any second.

"I think we solved the mystery of what killed those hikers," said Sam. "A phantom horse could easily crush a person's skull. The question now is how do we destroy it before it kills again?"

"My _baby!_" wailed Rain.

"That shouldn't be a problem," Claire said, ignoring her sister's whimpers. "Rain knows all about animal spirits."

"Because I want to _catch_ them and use them for my own secret, evil plans!"

"But you still know all about them. You could tell us all about the demon horse--"

"Night Mare. You know that was a Night Mare, so don't go trying to manipulate me. _I'm_ the master manipulator around here."

"Night Mare…I've heard about those," Sam said. "They're Native American protective spirits, right?"

"Specifically they protect wild horses. Stupid white people kept trying to destroy wild horses to get at the Native Americans, so they set fire-breathing spirit horses after the bastards."

"Which means that those hikers weren't hikers at all," added Claire. "They must've been going after some wild horses in the area for one reason or another."

"Stupid people. We should let the Night Mare crush them all."

"So how _do_ we get rid of Sparky?" asked Dean.

"But I don't want the pony to disappear!"

"Eliminate the threat to the horses," answered Claire. "The Night Mare should disappear on its own then."

"Sounds like a job for PETA or the ASPCA to me."

"PETA is good for blowing up labs, but alas, we don't have one of those," said Rain. "However, if we do find a need to blow something up, I'm perfectly capable of doing so. No need to outsource."

Claire rolled her eyes. "Not to mention those guys can't do anything with an anonymous tip. Besides, who's going to believe that a Native American spirit horse is killing people threatening wild horses? We're going to have to find out who wants the horses gone and why before going to the cops."

"Lousy land developers," muttered Rain. "They're the real evil beings here."

"If that's the case, we can go to the town offices or the library and see if any developers bought or are looking into buying land near this national forest," said Sam.

"Good, 'cause I don't know about you guys but these mosquitoes have just about sucked me dry," Dean muttered, swatting at something buzzing around his head.

* * *

To be continued… 


	2. Chapter 2

I apologize for taking so long to post this next chapter. I get sidetracked easily. There will be one more chapter after this, but I don't know when I'll get it finished. I doubt there are too many avid readers that are dying to find out what I'll write next anyway. This is more for my own entertainment. All else aside, I give you Chapter 2, and no, I own nothing.

* * *

Several hours later all four hunters were spread out across two tables in the reference section of the Paradox Library, books piled all around them. Sam glanced over at Dean, who'd been staring at the same spot in his current volume for nearly ten minutes, and nudged him. The older brother jumped and snorted.

"I'm awake," Dean muttered.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Find out anything interesting besides the fact that you can sleep with your eyes open?"

"How do you keep your eyes from rolling back in your head?" asked Rain. "I've been trying to figure that out for ages."

"You do look really creepy with just the whites of your eyes showing," Claire added. She passed her book over to Sam, pointing to a specific paragraph. "There's a ranch that looked into buying the land abutting the national forest last year, but the government denied the sale due to the fact that wild horses were living on the property."

"According to law you can't develop land that has wild horses living on it," Sam added. "Guess the ranchers didn't want to give up that easily. They either chase off or kill the horses, and the ranchers can put a claim on the land again."

Rain frowned. "Wait, I've seen this before..."

"Suddenly psychic, are we?" Dean grumbled.

"No, _A-Team _rerun on TV Land."

"Ooo! I remember that one!" exclaimed Claire. "That's the one where they build the catapult out of the car frame, old pipes, and garage door springs, right?"

"No, that's not the one."

"Aww, but I wanted to build a catapult!"

Sam interrupted. "Why would we even need a catapult?"

"We could aim it at the rancher's car!" Rain said with a glint in her eye.

"Figures you would find the one target in the middle of nowhere that could explode," muttered Claire.

Dean thought for a moment. "I think we're going to have a problem with this job."

"Why?" asked Sam. "We have a good idea as to what's provoking the Night Mare, now we just need the evidence to prove that the ranchers are breaking the law."

"That's not what I mean. I don't know how to handle a job that doesn't involve killing something. And I'm not sure about the pyromaniac and her catapult obsessed sister either."

"Aww, poor thing," Rain cooed as she pet Dean's head.

The older Winchester tried to swat the redhead's hand away. "What are you _doing_?!"

Rain continued to rub her fingers in his hair. "It's so soft—like a baby duck!"

"You're creeping me out. But that does feel sorta good…"

"What's the ranch owner's name?" asked Sam, trying to ignore Dean and Rain.

Claire stared at the report. "I don't know whether I should roll my eyes or laugh. We need to look up Billy Bob Cahill at Cahill Circle Ranch. It's just outside Paradox city limits."

"Ok, let's go talk to Billy Bob. Who wants to drive?"

Sam rolled his eyes as Claire snickered at Dean nodding off while Rain continued scritching his head. "Dude, you have to try this," the older Winchester muttered as his eyes drifted closed.

"Well, since you guys already drove that means it's our turn," said Claire with a glint in her eye, "and Rain seems too preoccupied to drive…"

"Touch my baby and die!" the redhead growled.

"OW!" Dean yelled. "No nails in my scalp!"

* * *

Half an hour later the Mustang pulled up the dirt lane leading to the Cahill Ranch. Dean twitched in the back seat, but whether it was from being cooped up in the back seat of a car that wasn't the Impala or from Claire's butchering every song on the radio Sam wasn't sure. Rain tried to drown her sister out with threats with little success.

"Next time I agree to work with other hunters," Dean muttered, "hit me, please."

Sam grinned. "Consider it done."

Rain pulled the Mustang over behind a small stand of trees out of sight of the main house and cut the engine. Dean sighed in relief and practically leaped from the car.

"Ok," Dean said, pointing at the sisters, "you two go distract Billy Bob while we sneak around back to his office and see what we can find."

"Rain can never look innocent," said Claire. "She has this permanent Cheshire grin that puts everyone on edge."

"Good point. We'll send the two harmless looking ones as distraction while Rain and I break in the back."

"Wait!" Claire threw a box at Dean. "Take the essentials for a B&E."

He read the label on the box. "Rubber gloves?"

"Actually, they're nitrile. They're hypoallergenic."

"Don't you have any confidence in our skills? Billy Bob won't notice anyone was in his office."

"Hey, I've got a degree in forensic science. I'm a little paranoid as to the information _CSI_ has been peddling to the public."

Rain grabbed a pair of gloves out of the box. "Besides, they're pretty purple!"

"And the last thing we need is our fingerprints, especially yours, getting found," added Sam.

"Hey, I'm the one who's legally dead," Dean said. "It'll just screw with the cops if they do dust for prints."

The redhead's eyes lit up. "You _have_ to tell me how you managed that!"

"Figures," muttered Claire. "As soon as I tell you I won't use my education for evil you go run off to strangers for help."

"Fine," Dean grumbled. "If it'll stop your rambling I'll take the gloves."

"Hey, I got a good idea for a distraction," said Rain, "if you need one. It doesn't even require acting on Claire's part."

"Do you remember what happened with your last distraction?" Claire said, glaring at her sister.

"Oh, don't complain. You know you liked all the attention. This one is much better anyway. I got the idea from the library even."

"Really?" asked Sam, intrigued. "What is it?"

* * *

"I'm going to kill my sister," growled Claire. She had pulled her hair back into pigtails and stuck hot pink flower decals on her jeans, giving the overall effect that she was about fifteen. "I look like a moron."

"I think you look cute," Sam said as they climbed the steps to the farmhouse.

"Really?"

"No, you look like an idiot."

"You're next on my hit list, buddy."

Sam smiled and rang the doorbell, ending their conversation. A few moments later a woman in a flannel shirt and jeans with silver-frosted brown hair answered the door. "May I help you?"

"Hi, we saw the flyer for free kittens at the library," said Sam. "My little sister here would really like to see them if you have any left."

The woman smiled. "Of course we do, sweetie! Come on, they're out in the barn." Sam and Claire followed her across the yard towards the building with chickens and goats milling around outside it. Inside one of the stalls was a pile of hay with half a dozen kittens leaping around.

"Kitties!" Claire squealed. She jumped into the middle of the stall and scooped up the nearest kitten. "They're so cute!"

The woman laughed. "I see she's going to take a while to decide. So, I'm Beth Cahill. Who might you be?"

"Sam and Claire Harnett," answered Sam. "We just moved into town."

"Like it so far?"

"Oh yeah. Actually, our dad's looking into getting a few animals now that we have the space. Would you happen to have any horses up for sale?"

"That's what we're known for, but you'll want to talk to my husband. He handles all the sales around here."

"Could I talk to him?"

"Sure, as soon as he gets back from fixing the fences on the west side of the ranch."

* * *

"Great!" Dean read the text message from Sam. "We're clear for now."

"Though I don't know why that matters," said Rain. "We already broke into the office. I'll take that file cabinet over there."

Dean sat down at the oak desk and started rifling through the drawers. "What exactly are we looking for? I've never had to stop Flicka from getting sent to the glue factory."

"Actually, a lot of wild horses get sent overseas for their meat these days."

"I knew there was something weird about Chicken McNuggets."

"Those are kangaroo, not horse. Either way there should be invoices or other papers showing cargo of some sort going out of the country. A horse ranch tends not to export that far, at least not in large quantities."

"What if Cahill is just telling his ranch hands to shoot the mustangs on sight?"

"Ranches are going the way of the dodo. There's a lot more profit in rounding up mustangs for illegal sale than killing them outright, and far more than he'd get selling the horses off as pets. Mustangs are small so that only kids and Claire can ride them."

Dean found and flipped through Cahill's day planner. "How would Cahill move the mustangs? Horse trailers are a bit conspicuous."

"By train most likely. It's the fastest way to ship large cargo over land." Rain pulled out a file folder and shuffled through its contents. "Here are all the reports of mustang sightings in the area. Stark, Hamilton, Loggins…these are all the names of the 'hikers' who died."

"That just proves the Night Mare is linked to this. I'm betting that Billy Bob decided to cover up the deaths as hiking accidents to throw the authorities off his trail."

"Poor horses," Rain muttered. She returned the folder and pulled out what looked to be a rolled up poster. She spread it out on the desk, revealing a map of the area. "There's a rail road spur that cuts just north of here. I bet that Cahill plans on herding them in that direction."

"And he's shipping them out tomorrow night." He handed the planner to Rain. He tapped at a set of numbers. "Those are probably the coordinates of the pickup."

"That doesn't give us a whole lot of time to call the Bureau of Land Management. And we need to talk to Claire about the legal end of this to make sure we don't get mixed up in the resulting arrests."

"Finally, Sam gets to use his fine college education. He's pre law."

"Funny how the so-called good children end up being the ones that help out their criminal mastermind siblings, driving the getaway car, posting bail, figuring out the little legal loopholes…"

* * *

Sam's cell phone buzzed in his pocket. "Sorry," he muttered to Beth as he answered it.

"We got what we need, Sam," Dean's voice answered at the other end. "You and Claire can meet us back at the car."

"Ok, Dad, but Claire hasn't picked out a kitten yet."

"Dad? Don't ever call me that again! Get your asses back to the car."

Sam resisted the urge to grin as he held the phone away from his mouth. "Claire, Dad says we've got to get home now. Leave the kittens."

"No!" wailed Claire, clutching a black ball of fur to her chest. "I was promised a kitten! He can't back out now after missing my birthday."

"Claire, you're making things up." Sam gave the blonde a weird look to get her to stop taking the act so seriously. "We have to get home to dinner. We can come back later when Dad can come look at the horses."

"I'm getting a kitten _now_!"

"Dude, I don't care if you drag her out kicking and screaming, just get out of there!" Dean growled into the phone.

* * *

"I don't believe this," Dean grumbled later in the back seat of the Mustang.

"Hey, you weren't the one who had to pry her fingers off the barn door," retorted Sam. "I don't think I've ever been so embarrassed in my life. How old are you anyway, Claire?"

"Twenty-two, if you must know," the blonde replied from the front seat.

"You're my age and you still act like you're two?"

"Hey, two-year-olds don't have a death grip like mine. And it's not my fault that you tried the hard way first."

Sam leaned forward to talk to Rain. "Don't you have any sway over your sister?"

"Only if I can use my fists on her at the time," the redhead replied. "Besides, I side with her on this one."

Claire turned around in her seat. "How can you say no to this face?" She held up the black kitten she'd wrangled from the Cahill ranch. "Isn't he cute?"

The kitten immediately jumped out of her hands and into Dean's lap. He tried to swat the animal away, but it leaped onto the back shelf and started licking his eyelid.

"Oh yeah, it's just adorable how Snowball's trying to eat my eyes."

Sam snickered as Claire said, "He's just showing his affection, and his name isn't Snowball. I have more imagination than that."

"What are you naming him anyway?" asked her sister.

"I don't know, but something better than Shadow or Blackie. I was thinking Ichabod, as in _The Legend of Sleepy Hollow_."

"Licky Icky," muttered Dean, "I think that fits." He dumped the kitten in Sam's lap in the hope it would like his brother's eyes better than his.

"Eh, it's ok," Rain said, ignoring the older Winchester. "How about Jinx or Mojo?"

"Ooo, Juju! I want to call him Juju!" Claire exclaimed.

"So when he does something wrong you can yell, 'Bad Juju'?"

"Exactly! Though Mojo would work the same way."

"Can we please forget the hairball for one minute and talk about the real issue at hand?" interrupted Dean. "Remember the Night Mare and the horse slaughter?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll call the BLM as soon as we get back into town, ok?" said Rain.

Dean leaned towards his brother. "I think we're going slow enough that if we open the doors, tuck and roll, we should hit the ground well enough to walk back to the hotel. What do you say?"

"I'd rather take the ride, thanks," replied Sam. He scratched the kitten behind its ears, causing it to purr loudly.

"Stupid cat. You actually want to listen to this insanity?"

"No, I just like watching you suffer."

"I hate you."

Sam laughed while Dean tried to open the car door.

"You sound like a chipmunk when you laugh!" Claire said as she reached around the seat to take her kitten back.

Dean left the door alone and shot his now sulking brother a shit-eating grin. "Maybe it won't be so bad after all."

* * *

Once they got back to the hotel, Rain dropped off the Winchesters while she and Claire went out to buy supplies for the kitten and to call the Bureau of Land Management. Dean flopped on his bed and groaned. "Talk about a draining day. I can understand why mental hospital workers snap."

"I keep wondering how long those sisters will last once we leave them to their own devices," Sam said as he took a chair. "They have no idea what they're doing."

"I think they're more homicidal than suicidal, but they're not our problem once the BLM takes care of Billy Bob. Figures the easiest case supernaturally is the most frustrating."

"Makes you glad that you just have me to deal with?" Sam grinned.

"I see now that it could be worse…much worse. I say we head over to the diner for some food. I'm starving."

"Yeah, let's enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasts."

About an hour later Claire and Rain entered Banjo's Kitchen just as Dean was finishing off the last of his French fries. Thankfully the kitten was nowhere to be seen, but the sisters argued the entire way to the Winchesters' table.

"No, this is where the _A-Team_ parallels end!" Claire said. "Let the authorities deal with it like we planned."

"I told you, we can't wait that long!" insisted Rain.

"What's up?" asked Sam as the sisters slid into the booth.

The redhead sighed. "I called the BLM, but they said they can't get an agent over here for another two or three days. By then the mustangs will be on their way out as T-bone steaks."

"As lamentable as that is, I'd rather not risk capture or injury trying to release the horses into the wild and holding Cahill until the authorities can take him," said Claire. "Besides, how do we know that the Night Mare won't show up tomorrow night and at least maim the last of Cahill and his men?"

"We don't want anymore people killed," interrupted Sam.

"Speak for yourself," said Rain. "If I knew the Night Mare would be there to stop Billy Bob my conscience would be clear. Let's just kill him to be sure."

"I said no more killing people!"

"Yeah, and Cahill is a _person_, not _people_."

Claire said, "You need to be _really_ specific about those technical things with Rain. She'll find any loophole imaginable."

"I am the weasel queen!" shouted Rain.

"I'm never taking you out in public again."

"You've been saying that for years, but you have yet to follow through."

Dean slammed down on the table with open hands, snapping all eyes to him. "Alright! Shut up for a minute so I can think!"

After a long pause, Claire murmured, "This would probably be a bad time to steal a fry, wouldn't it?"

Sam slid his plate in front of the blonde before Dean could retaliate. "Couldn't we call the cops with an anonymous tip, head over to the pickup, and make sure that the authorities at least take Cahill into custody? It would give the BLM enough time to get here and investigate the matter properly."

"But would the cops take it seriously is the question. There's no real solid evidence or even enough suspicion worth their time and effort."

"This is Mayberry," said Dean. "This is the kind of town where they'll pull over teenagers for Driving While Young."

"Hey, we grew up in a Mayberry. We'll test this theory of yours by calling in an anonymous tip tonight and see if the cops even consider it. That way we'll still have time to come up with another plan before the horses get shipped."

* * *

"This is mind numbing," muttered Claire. "Not to mention I can't feel my fingers anymore."

The four hunters huddled in the woods on the edge of Cahill Circle Ranch, watching the clearing that was serving as the pickup point for any suspicious activity. Once night had settled the temperature dropped drastically, reminding them that it was still on the winter side of spring.

"This was your idea, remember?" hissed Dean, his breath sending fog in the blonde's direction.

"No, it was Sam's. Speaking of which, you gave the right coordinates to the cops, Sam?"

"Positive," he answered. "Maybe they don't know how to interpret those anymore. Still, I told them it was on Cahill's property."

"I'm betting the cops went to his house and tipped him off."

"I'm freezing too," said Rain. "And bored. I say we split up and see if we can find some evidence of corrals or something used to contain the horses. Cahill might even have them penned up somewhere if they're being shipped out tomorrow night. Anything to feel my feet."

"But the cops could be out looking for the horses as well," Sam protested. "They have probable cause. Dean and I can't get caught right now."

"I'm starting to think that Five-Oh decided to ignore your little tips," said Dean. "We're more likely to run into the bear again than local cops out here. Let's go."

Dean and Rain paired up and headed off toward the left of their current position while Sam and Claire went to the right. After walking through the brush for several minutes in silence, Claire asked Sam, "Do you think we should risk flashlights? I'm not too sure of where I'm heading anymore."

"We need to cut more to the left," Sam answered. "We're heading back towards the ranch house."

"Definitely not a good idea. You—hold on, I heard something." Claire cut into a patch of bushes, Sam trailing close behind. The two stumbled out into a moonlit clearing. At the center stood a corral filled with milling horses. A lone figure stood at the rail trying to pet the mustangs.

"Rain!" hissed Claire. "Stop that!"

"You suck the fun out of everything," whined Rain, continuing to reach for a horse.

"Where's Dean?" asked Sam. They all happened to stumble across the mustangs with no one around—this seemed far too easy.

Before the redhead could reply, a rough voice answered, "Don't worry about him. We've taken care of him."

Immediately Claire and Rain pulled out their weapons and scanned the tree line with Sam to find the voice's source. Six or seven forms all with shotguns or rifles aimed at the three emerged from the woods like shadows. A much larger figure tossed what looked to be a scarecrow, but once it fell into the light Sam could see it was Dean. His brother had a smear of something dark that glimmered in the moonlight—blood.

"What did you do to him?" demanded Sam.

"Just showed him that he overstepped his boundaries," replied the voice again. This time the three recognized the speaker as the figure to the left of the one that had dropped Dean.

"Cahill," growled Sam.

The speaker bowed slightly. "You have me at a disadvantage of names, but it doesn't matter. You're the ones who've obviously watched too much _Scooby Doo_ and called the cops on my operation. What you kids didn't think of was that the police know I'm a pillar of the community, and they'd come right to my door to ask if there was any truth in your anonymous tip."

Claire and Rain groaned. "We should've seen that one coming."

"Now, drop your weapons before I give the order to shoot."

Reluctantly the three dropped their guns, and Cahill's men rushed in to take the discarded weapons. After all three were patted down, Cahill's men proceeded to tie their hands behind their backs.

"Lock them up," Cahill barked as the men prodded their guns into Claire, Rain, and Sam's backs to get them moving towards a dirt track into the woods. One of the men hefted Dean under his arms and dragged his unconscious form after the rest.

"You're not going to kill us?" asked Claire.

Cahill laughed. "What am I, stupid? I may have the cops in my pocket, but they won't overlook four obvious murders. However, they'll ignore the claims of four kids on spring break that the Man of the Year is slaughtering wild horses for profit."

Around a corner in the path a large refrigerated truck sat parked, the back doors flung wide to reveal inky blackness. The three were shoved into the back of the truck while Dean was tossed in behind them. The doors slammed shut and the lock clanged in place.

"Well, we're screwed," Claire observed.

"Ya think?" retorted Sam.

To be concluded…


	3. Chapter 3

Authors Note: I know, I bet the few of you who read this thought Id died and would never finish it. Hopefully it makes sense after all this timeFrankly, I dont want to look and see how long its been. Im lucky I figured out my password for my account. Enjoy!

Claire groaned. I dont believe this! What are we, Nancy Drew and Bess trapped with the Hardy Boys?

Who the hell is Bess? asked Sam.

One of Nancys friends who was always hanging around and getting captured with her. Totally useless. She looked around the dark interior of the truck. Cahill must be slaughtering the horses himself and shipping the meat out to cut down on costs.

Great, we can have the option of freezing to death instead of getting executed.

A groan emanated from Deans corner. A dark shape moved; obviously hed woken from his comatose state. Hey, you guys all right? asked Dean.

Yeah, fine, Sam answered. You?

Head hurts, but thats expected when some creep jumps you in the woods. Now, how do we escape?

This is a meat truck, right? Rain asked.

One would assume sogiven all the meat, Dean snapped.

This is good news for us.

How do you figure?

When was the last time you saw meat try and escape?

That episode of _Danny Phantom_, Sam muttered.

Dude, you watch that show? Dean said, raising an eyebrow.

I have insomnia. If I have a choice of a cartoon versus an infomercial about hair styling products, Ill take the cartoon, thank you.

Well, that much is obvious with your choice in hairstyle.

Back to the subject at hand: escaping the meat truck, said Claire.

Anybody else remember that theres an access door at the front of the trailer near that particularly large pile of meat that doesnt have a lock?

The other three stared at Rain.

Door? Dean echoed.

Hmm. Ill be damned, Claire said. Huh.

Why isnt there a lock? Sam asked.

Because I took the liberty of smashing it off when we were poking about illegally earlier. I had a feeling this might happen, Rain explained.

Feeling?

More than a feeling. Sorry, bad pop reference. Anywayyes. You think I watched five seasons of the _A-Team_ and seven of _MacGyver_ and learned nothing? Rain said defensively. Why else would a rancher have a refrigerated truck?

Claire stared at her sister for a second. You didnt predict this. You just like breaking locks. On everything. Like my diary, and my bedroom door, and the other thingy I cant remember.

Rain smiled. I confess. The lock on the back door is busted too, and so is the barn door, and the ignition on the tractor.

What did you break the tractor for? Dean asked.

Rain shrugged. I was trying to hijack it and the key snapped off.

Tractor jacking, eh? You really are a hick.

I can skin a man in three cuts. Would you like a demo?

Actually

No flaying! Sam protested.

Claire sighed. We should never ever work together again. Nothing ever gets done.

Except mass destruction! chimed Rain.

Someone want to do us all a big favor and get the knife out of my pocket so we can cut ourselves free? Dean asked.

Already did, the redhead answered as she pulled her hands free of her bonds. She flashed Deans knife and started cutting the ropes off of him.

Im impressed. I didnt notice you pick pocketing me at all.

You were unconscious for all of it.

Claire grumbled, Dont encourage her. Shes already enough of a criminal mastermind as it is.

So? Whats come in handy more often, your logic or my warped mind? demanded Rain as she moved on to cutting Sams bonds.

The blonde sighed. Warped mind, unfortunately. But if I hadnt listened to you I could be down in Florida on spring break where the biggest concern I had would be getting a sunburnnot getting knocked out and hog tied in a meat truck while murderous ranchers plot our doom.

But isnt this a lot more interesting? Think of the stories you can tell!

Ok, all we need is a distraction, Dean cut in. How about we just shove the two of them out into the open?

A familiar unearthly shriek cut through the night followed by the thunder of hooves. Sam ventured a glance out the unlocked access door while Rain untied her sister. No need. The Night Mares here.

The others crowded around the cracked door to get a better look at the chaos. The Night Mare charged at Cahill and his men, causing their mounts to spook. The corralled mustangs panicked, desperately looking for a way to escape.

We need to set those horses loose before they hurt themselves, said Rain. Claire, shinny through the hole and let us out.

The blonde sighed, This is what I get for having my grandmothers genetics. Just help me so I can land feet first and look for something to break the lock.

Rain produced a long handled ax. I hid it when I broke the other locks. Looks like it came in handy.

I really worry about you and the damage you could unleash on the world.

Be glad were on the same side.

Claire rolled her eyes as she managed to stick her legs through the open hatch. Sam grabbed onto her arms and helped her slide out of the truck and safely onto the ground. Once Claire was sure that no one saw her escaping in the chaos, Rain handed her the ax. Fortunately the tool wasnt needed; Cahill merely used the outside latch on the trucks door. Once she was free of the truck, Rain darted between men running for their lives or shooting at the Night Mare towards the corral, Claire close at her heels.

In the mad scramble several of Cahills men fell from their horses. Rain noticed and dashed after the riderless mounts. Cmon, Im not walking out of here if I can ride! She grabbed the reins of two horses, offering one to her sister. The pair mounted the prancing horses and took off.

Are you crazy? Sam yelled after the sisters.

I think we established that five seconds after we met, Dean replied. Cmon, lets get outta here before we get an ass full of buckshot.

How? Sam asked as he ducked behind the truck after Dean to get out of the line of fire.

Id thought wed swing from vines. How do you think? The freaking truck! I doubt these idiots were smart enough to take the keys.

Can you drive an eighteen wheeler?

Im hoping for beginners luck. Cant be that hard, right?

Famous last words, Sam muttered as he climbed up into the truck cab and slid into the passenger seat.

Hey! Theyre stealing our horses! yelled one of Cahills men.

Dean climbed in behind the wheel and grumbled when he saw no keys dangled from the ignition. Check for keys.

Sam turned around to check behind the seat. Well, I found our weapons. If Cahills men were dumb enough to put those in here, then the keys are too.

Dean checked above the visors with no luck, but Sam found the keys stuffed in the glove box. Here goes nothing, Dean said. See if you can find the psycho sisters. We need to know if they should be included in the body count.

Sam saw immediately the sisters had succeeded in their attempt to free the mustangs. The corral gate stood wide open as horses poured out into the surrounding woods. The shooting had dwindled now that all but Cahill and one of his men lay in bloody, trampled heaps about the clearing.

Get my horses back! Cahill yelled at his remaining man.

Rain yelled over her shoulder, I cannot be held responsible for my actions. However, if you would like to contact your state's representative, you can make your complaint to him. Or you can support our cause of freeing the symbol of American freedom in these trying times by voting for a ban on horse slaughter. Thank you for your consideration in this time, and I will be running away now, with your stolen horses. HI HO, SILVER, AWAY!

The mustangs scattered far into the woods to leave the Night Mare to finish its work. The spectral horse was easy to see by its ember-like eyes and flaming nostrils. It screamed, reared, and plunged its hooves into the remaining ranch hand until he lay still.

Cahill looked around at the carnage and tried to run to safety, but the Night Mare chased him and pinned him up against the side of the refrigerated truck. He tried desperately to shoot the demonic horse with a useless rifle. The nightmare shrieked, reared, and pounded its hooves into Cahills chest. He screamed, but he was silenced by another blow from the horse. The Night Mare stomped several more times, ensuring the man was dead. When it was satisfied with its work, the Night Mare turned its burning gaze toward first the sisters and then the brothers in the truck. It whinnied as if in thanks and disappeared in a ball of flame.

PONY, NO! yelled Rain.

Note to self, said Dean, never go near horses again.

Or insane redheads, added Sam.

The sisters on horseback followed the brothers in the meat truck back into town and to the police station. Dean disappeared back towards the hotel while the other three convinced the cops Cahill had kidnapped them after they stumbled upon his horse slaughtering operation while hiking. The rope burns, bruises, and truck full of horse fillets helped sell the story. The cops agreed to check out Cahills ranch and business after a patrolman saw the gore back at the ranch. Sam, Claire, and Rain sighed with relief when they got released; though all of the bodies were trampled, neither of the horses the sisters rode had any blood on them. No evidence linked them with any of the deaths.

After a much-needed night of sleep back at the hotel, the four met up at the diner down the road for breakfast.

See the news this morning? asked Claire around a mouthful of pancakes. Cahills widow is ripshit that she didnt know about his business.

She said she wouldve brought him and his cronies in to the cops after dragging them behind her pickup across a field of rocks and broken glass if they hadnt gotten trampled, added Rain.

Dean said, I think they got off easy with the Night Mare.

Speaking of the former Mrs. Cahill, what did you end up naming the kitten? asked Sam.

Pazuzu, answered Claire.

Dean perked up. As in the name of the demon in _The Exorcist_?

I wouldnt know since Ive only seen the last ten minutes or so. I found a demonology book, closed my eyes, and pointed at a random word in the indexPazuzu.

How can you not have seen _The Exorcist_? Its a classic!

I burst out laughing when the priest threw himself out the window. If I do that at the supposed climax, I can just imagine how scary the rest of it is.

Dean glared at the blonde. Im never speaking to you again.

Once you explain to me why you couldnt be around the police station and I had to smudge all your prints in the truck Ill leave you alone.

I told you to wipe those!

And I told you that wiping down a truck would be suspicious. The cops would notice that only Sams prints were in the truck while none matched Cahill or his men. Smudging is better, and its expected in a work truck. My forensics degree counts for something.

Dean sighed. Fine. We ran into a shape shifter that captured me and took my face so it could gets its jollies killing people.

Ok, so the feds think that you murdered a bunch of people because of a shape shifter? asked Claire.

In a nutshell, said Dean.

Why didnt you get a lawyer to exhume the body in your grave and run DNA tests? A shape shifter may look like you, but I doubt it can replicate your DNA. From there any suspect DNA at the crime scenes can be run against you and the shape shifter and prove your innocence.

Dean glared at his brother. Why didnt _you_ think of this before, _Sam_? Whats the point of wanting to be a lawyer if you cant even help your own brother out of a murder rap?

Sam rubbed his neck. Iuhdidnt get a chance to take any crime scene related classes before

Thats no excuse! I cant believe youre the smart one when it takes her ten seconds to figure out an answer. Obviously a Stanford education doesnt count for much these days.

Does this mean the crack about _The Exorcist_ is forgiven? asked Claire.

If it gets me exonerated, yes.

Rain said, Think we should hit the road. Where are you guys heading?

Nothing for sure yet, said Sam.

Claire said, Well save you some trouble. Dont bother investigating anything in New England, especially in New Hampshire.

Why not? asked Sam.

Because odds are Rain and her best friend started the urban legend themselves. Theres no truth to them whatsoever.

Its not our fault tourists are so stupid, retorted Rain.

I think we should make a pact before we leave, said Dean. We never, ever cross paths again.

But wasnt this fun? asked Rain.

NO! Sam and Dean replied.

The End.


End file.
